The Hawk and the Dragon
by Deiana
Summary: Kiri Destrier has lived a life on the run. When fate and luck bring her to the Mansion, will her arrival be that of the dove of peace, or of the raven of darkness?
1. Scent

Disclaimer: Not mine. Never mine. Didn't come up with it. Kiri, on the other hand, is mine.

Wolverine knew someone was coming. He could smell it.

He'd lived at the Mansion long enough to recognize the normal scents that belonged to the various teenagers and adults who lived there. Every spring, of course, there was a motley array of new ones to learn, but this was the middle of January. All the students had been back from Christmas break for nearly two weeks now. No one new should be arriving, and the Professor hadn't sent anyone out on a retrieval in months.

Needless to say, catching a whiff of a new scent so close to the place he now called home put him on edge.

Marie was, of course, the first one to notice. Ever since she'd absorbed his powers that catastrophic night several years ago, she'd understood him like no one else ever had, not even Victor, his brother – mostly because she still had more than a bit of him mixed in with her own personality. She approached him after a Danger Room workout, her brow furrowed with anxiety. He was touched to realize that it was on his behalf.

"Hey, Logan… somethin's botherin' you. What's up?" He grimaced at her easy perception, but figured she deserved an honest response.

"I'm that easy to read, eh?"

"Only to me." She grinned.

"Well, that's a relief." He pulled a cigar out of the pack in his pocket and motioned to one of the others also making their way out of the Danger Room. Jubilee grinned rakishly and obligingly flicked a paf towards the end of the cigar. Her aim was good, and it caught, the ember glowing dully in the fluorescent light of the corridor. "Thanks, kid!"

Although she grimaced at the juvenile nickname, she waved her hand idly in a sort of offhand "you're welcome" gesture. "Let's walk," he said to Rogue, who fell into step next to him.

Together they worked their way upstairs into the more public portion of the Mansion. The halls changed from sterile white to warm, comforting wood paneling, the floors moving from tile to linoleum to stone. Logan continued, leading Rogue out one of the side doors and in to the gardens. It had been a while since he'd gotten to talk to the young mutant he'd offered his protection. She was always busy with her studies, and with Bobby, and he was often gone on missions for the Professor, or himself. She stayed quiet as they walked, another sign of how well she knew him. He would talk when he was ready.

It wasn't until they were standing by the small fountain at the far end of the gardens that he spoke.

"I noticed it a couple days ago," he began. "A scent. Something… no, someone new. Different. I thought it was just a whiff off the street, but it kept coming back. Whoever they are, they're on the grounds. Probably hiding in the trees, waiting."

"Waiting? What for?" Rogue looked puzzled now.

"If I knew, you think I'd still be here, kid? I'd 'a found whoever they are and brought 'em in. But as long as they wait, they're no threat. It worries me, is all." Logan knew he ought to tell the Professor, but something in him resisted. Maybe he wanted to bring the stranger in on his own, prove… something. He wasn't really sure what. That he was useful for something other than sending off to kill things.

"Well…" Rogue paused for a moment, choosing her words carefully. "I'm always here for help, or talk. Keep me up with what you're doin'? Don't run off again, whatever you do."

Logan couldn't help but grin, and pulled her close for a one-armed hug, careful to mind her skin. "Knew there was a reason I kept you around, kid," he joked. They stood like that a moment, Logan's arm draped companionably around her shoulder, her head leaning on his chest. As gruff as he was to the rest of the world, Marie never failed to bring out a surge of affection that he ranked somewhere between that of a father for a daughter, and a brother for a sister. And yet it was still somehow more than that.

A strange, harsh caw broke through their reverie. A bird, a crow to be exact, perched on the branch of a tree at the edge of the woods, not ten yards away, and it was looking at them. Or appeared to be. Its beady, oddly intelligent eyes certainly seemed to be pointed in their direction. It cawed again and cocked its head to one side. It almost seemed as if it were asking a question.

"What a strange bird…" Rogue murmured and stepped towards it. At her motion, though, it startled, and with a furious flapping of wings took off into the forest.

It was only as it disappeared into the trees that Logan realized. That bird was the source of the scent.


	2. Chase

Disclaimer: Not mine. Never mine. Couldn't be mine. Kiri, on the other hand, is mine.

"That bird… that's the source! Go back to the Mansion, tell the Professor, I'm going to follow it," Logan snapped tersely at Rogue, who obediently took off at a jog back through the gardens. Logan dropped into a crouch, caught the scent again, and took off at a loping run.

In his mind, the scent was like a glowing ribbon, weaving through the air. It fluttered and flickered through the trees at first, hopping from one to the other in places, gliding through the air across clearings. After a half-mile or so, it changed subtly, becoming both stronger, and more complex. It was also confined to the ground. The mutant had taken on its human form, Logan deduced. All the easier for him to catch up with it. No, not it. Her. The scent had a distinctly feminine taste.

He increased the speed of his run, weaving through trees with easy agility. While his claws were still sheathed, his whole body was tense, ready for battle should it present itself. Although he didn't anticipate much of a fight from someone who would run at the first sign of detection, it never hurt to be cautious. The scent continued to grow stronger. He was gaining on her.

Sure enough, within another minute, he picked up the sounds of clumsy footsteps ahead of him. Leaves and twigs crackled and snapped, branches were pushed aside, and over all was the sound of harsh, labored breathing. The footsteps seemed to be getting slower, more erratic, as she tired of the chase. He slowed as well, stepping carefully, stealthily, until he caught his first glimpse of his prey through the trees.

She was small. That surprised him for some reason, although he supposed it made sense considering her power. Her movements were quick and darting, even when slowed by exhaustion, like a sparrow hopping across the ground. Dark brown hair tumbled down her back, almost reaching her waist, tangled with debris from the forest – leaves, twigs, grass, even a few feathers peeked through. Her clothes were in almost as bad shape. The top had once been a t-shirt, but was now almost unrecognizable under a layer of mud. The jeans she wore were almost more holes than fabric, and she wore no shoes. That would explain the metallic tang of blood he could now smell. As he crept closer, she finally stopped, leaning against a tree for support, her whole body heaving with each breath she took. Wide, terrified grey eyes flickered around the forest – a cornered animal searching desperately for any hope of escape.

She spotted him, and froze. Their eyes met for a moment, brown and grey, and he found himself surprised by the fire he saw there. He saw her body tremble, and a ripple of what appeared to be feathers ran up her arms, as she attempted to make one last change. The effort proved to be too much for her to bear, however, and she sank to the group, giving up with a gasp of pain. She sat there, hunched up by the tree; shoulders slumped, head hanging, until his feet came into her range of vision. Slowly, ever so slowly, she lifted her head until their eyes met again. This time, though, her eyes were simply tired, defeated.

"I don't want to hurt you," he said quietly. Even so, she flinched at the sound of his voice and cowered further against the tree. "Please… I just want to help."

"You can't help me," came the raspy voice, hoarse from lack of use. "Nobody can. Nobody will. I gave up on _help_ a long time ago!" Her voice grew louder with each word. "I finally thought I'd found somewhere safe, but no, I'm chased, hunted here too!" There was such a depth of bitterness in her voice; he was taken aback that one so young could seem so cold.

"I'm sorry if I scared you," he said, trying his best to sound gentle. Gentleness was far from his strong point – where was Ororo when you needed her? "But I really do want to help."

"Don't you know what I am?" she snapped.

"You're a mutant," he answered simply. Ignoring her shocked exclamation, he continued. "Just like me. Just like everyone at the Institute – you know, the place you've been trespassing on for the past two days?" That got her undivided attention.

"You mean… there are more? I'm not the only one?" Barely suppressed hope was now audible in her voice.

"Far from it, kid. Look…" He held out one hand and slowly let his claws extend, watching her eyes grow wide as saucers with a degree of amusement. "Yeah, there're more. A whole school of 'em. Kids, teachers, hell, we even got ourselves a doctor or two. And the Professor is always lookin' to help kids like you – lost, no place to call home. You let me take you back there… I can guarantee you, he'll help you."

There was silence in the forest for a long moment. Her eyes seemed distant, lost, as she considered his offer. Finally, just as he was getting restless, she nodded once, then dropped her head back onto her knees.

"Well then… mind if I carry you? Doesn't look like you're up to much more walkin'" Another nod. As he bent down to gather her small, feather-light frame into his arms, he thought to ask a question he should have asked to begin with. "By the way kid… what's your name?"

"Kiri. Kiri Destrier. Call me Hawk. You?"

"I'm Logan, some call me Wolverine."

She let out a strange, strangled sob. It took a minute for him to realize she was trying to laugh. "Just a pair of animals we are, eh?" she said.

"Yeah. Guess so. Hang on tight, sparrow." And he took off again through the woods, lengthening his stride to keep his gait smooth so as not to jostle her. Her head rested gently against his shoulder, and it wasn't long before he looked down to realize she'd fallen asleep, exhausted, in his arms.


	3. Awakening

When Kiri next opened her eyes, the sight that met her was so confusing as to be almost incomprehensible to her. There was what appeared to be an arm covering a good deal of her field of view. It would have been a perfectly normal arm, except for the fact that it was blue. Beyond the arm, she saw white. As she swam back into alertness, she realized it was a white ceiling. A syringe floated across the white ceiling.

Wait, floated?

Kiri blinked and stirred, and the blue arm abruptly pulled back, blinding her for a moment as the fluorescent light that had previously been hidden shone directly into her eyes. Her eyes adjusted quickly, and the shapeless blurs hovering around her resolved into faces.

One of them was blue, the same shade as the arm – she made the mental leap to realize they must come from the same person. He, for it was very clearly masculine, wore wire-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, and despite the shaggy mane of hair framing his head, appeared rather pedantic. The other head was an almost complete contrast. Short, dark red hair, and elegant, almost delicate features bore a look of intense concentration. The object of her concentration came into view. A clipboard and pen floated right into her hands, as easy as feathers on the wind.

"Well, my dear, it's good to see you waking up," said the big blue one. "How are you feeling?" He laid one overlarge hand on her forehead gently.

"Um… thirsty," Kiri managed to rasp out before subsiding into a fit of coughing, her throat bursting into flames of pain. The red-haired psychic disappeared from her view, returning seconds later with a cup of water. Big Blue helped her sit up with an arm behind her back so she could gulp down the room-temperature liquid. As it soothed her raw throat, she managed to blink back tears enough to get a look at the room she was in.

The walls were as white as the ceiling, and lined with tables and various complicated looking medical equipment. A clinic of some sort, perhaps? Double glass doors led out of the room into a hallway that ran several yards straight away before making a sharp ninety degree turn to the left. There were several other beds in the room, although hers was the only one currently occupied. Her survey of the room finished, she looked back at the two people – doctors? – attending her.

"Where am I?" she asked.

Big Blue answered her. "You're at Xavier's Institute for the Gifted, my dear, in the clinic." The redhead took her arm and checked her pulse, her fingers cool and gentle. "My name is Dr. Hank McCoy, I'm the resident physician and one of the teachers."

"And you?" Kiri asked the woman.

"I'm Jean, Jean Grey. I also am a teacher here," she answered, smiling reassuringly. "You've no need to worry, you'll have a place here if you want one."

Kiri looked from one to the other. Her mind was still having trouble processing all that she had just learned. Add to that the fact that one of the doctors was blue and furry and the other could move things with her mind and, well, nothing really made sense. So she asked another question. "What is this place?"

"It's a school," Jean replied. "A school for people like you, and like us. Mutants – those with powers. As you can tell, Dr. McCoy's mutation is fairly obvious. I'm a telepath, and I also have some telekinetic abilities." Kiri nodded slowly. That made sense, although she wouldn't have believed it if she hadn't seen evidence of Jean's abilities already.

"And what about me?"

"Yours is what we call a feral mutation, animal based." Dr. McCoy moved as he spoke, standing in front of one of the impressive-looking computers and tapping at the keyboard. "An avian feral, specifically, as you appear to be able to shift your shape into that of a bird." At her puzzled look, he continued. "Logan gave a full report when he brought you in."

"Ah. Does he teach here too? Is his a, what did you call it… feral mutation as well? He showed me his claws."

Jean laughed and shook her head, wrapping a blood pressure cuff around Kiri's upper arm and pumping it up slowly. "Yes, he's a feral also, although he can't change his shape. His primary mutation is an accelerated healing ability. As for teaching, well, he'll occasionally lead self-defense classes, or run sessions in our training room. Usually he just hangs around and makes a nuisance of himself, when he's not off on a mission for the Professor." There was a certain degree of affection in her voice when she spoke of him, but it was mixed with exasperation and long-standing frustration.

Kiri tensed as the blood pressure cuff reached its maximum expansion, digging into her arm painfully, then relaxed as it eased off. She was coming back to herself slowly but steadily, becoming more alert and lucid by the moment. For once, she actually managed to ignore her instinctual response to flee the confines of strange walls. These people had done nothing but help her, and, for some reason, she felt… safe. Almost as if, any time she tried to panic, her mind was gently turned away towards a more positive emotion. No sooner had she realized that then she heard a soft, warm voice in her head.

_Yes, I am helping you deal with your new experiences. My name is Professor Xavier; this is my school you have stumbled upon. Please, when you feel ready, come speak with me._ _We have much to discuss, you and I._

The voice and the presence that came with it slowly faded, leaving behind a sense of peace. It should have felt intrusive or wrong, but it didn't. It felt natural and easy. Kiri blinked a few times, fighting an odd sense of loss at the ending of the psychic contact. She realized that both Dr. McCoy and Jean were watching her, smiling.

"I see the Professor has welcomed you himself," Dr. McCoy said.

"Y-yes. He did. He said to come speak with him when I'm ready. I think I'm ready… if I'm allowed to leave, that is."

"Well, you have a clean bill of health from me. There was nothing wrong with you but a bad case of exhaustion and dehydration, which resting took care of. Your feet may feel a bit odd, though. They were quite torn up, so I bandaged and numbed them – if the pain comes back, just come see me." Jean flipped back the blanket to show her the clean white strips wrapped around her feet.

Kiri nodded mutely and swung her feet off the side of the bed. Placing her hand on the arm Dr. McCoy offered, she stood shakily. Her head spun for a moment, but settled quickly, and she managed a tentative smile. "I think I'll be fine from here. How do I find the Professor's office?"

Jean smiled secretively. "Oh, don't you worry. You'll find it just fine, just start walking."


End file.
